


the box

by onthighsbelongtotaemin



Series: group [2]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onthighsbelongtotaemin/pseuds/onthighsbelongtotaemin
Summary: jonghyun misses his dead husband.





	

jonghyun slips his shoes off as he enters his apartment, leans down & unhooks roo from her leash & vest with “service animal” printed on both sides.  she trots off to the kitchen & he can hear the soft crunch of kibble followed by the gentle lapping of water.  he smiles to himself, a little sadly, as he stands in his foyer.  it’s been a rough week & he can’t quite shake the melancholy that set in.  he sighs.  he’s tired.  so tired.  

suddenly he turns towards his bedroom, his stride purposeful & mind set.  he turns on the light & opens the closet door, pulling the metal chain to turn the light on inside.  there’s a box, a precious box, & he finds it instantly, sitting centre on the shelf at the top of the closet.  he stares at it for a moment before reaching up & gingerly pulling it down, hugging it close to his body.  he turns & sets it as delicately as possible on his bed, moving bedding aside & tossing his pillows to the floor.  the box sits alone on the mattress, watching him, waiting.  no, he fights back that last thought: it’s just a box.  he turns away to shut off the closet light & close the door before coming back to stand in front of the box.  roo shuffles in, rubs her head against his socked foot & licks there.  she seems to have sensed the shift in mood & heads to her own bed where she can watch jonghyun.  

he pulls the flapped cardboard apart, the overlapping pieces sliding away from each other until the contents are made visible.  it’s full of his most precious items.  a rubix cube, an old hand-held game device, a few snapbacks, some clothes, framed pictures, & other memories of the man he loved.  he brushes his fingers over the cube, he could never figure out how onew could magically put it back together every time but he did.  every time.  & jonghyun loved to watch the look of concentration as his husband put the puzzle together, his favourite moment being when onew’s face lit up with every success.  he could have stared at onew’s smile all day.  he glances at it now, one of the photographs showing them smiling staring up at him from the box.  he lifts it up gently, the glass under his thumb cold & the metal on his hand heavy.  he clings to these sensations as he begins to cry, softly, just for a moment.  roo makes a noise in her throat & he tells her he’s fine, & she continues to watch him from her bed.  he puts the picture back & begins to sort through the other items in the box, picking through memories until he finds what he’s looking for.  

it’s not a special day.  it’s not a birthday or an anniversary or a holiday or any day of importance.  but it is a day without onew & jonghyun is sad today & the experience of both has brought him to search through these things to find the silliest item he’d ever known his husband to own.  & to put it on himself.  it was for a halloween costume, he remembers it vividly because gwiboon laughed so hard she started choking & onew had to giver her the heimlich while dressed in a bright green crop top & matching mini skirt.  it was both the funniest & scariest thing jonghyun had witnessed in his adult life & he had been so proud of onew’s quick thinking that…well what gwiboon didn’t know about her laundry room wouldn’t hurt her.  

he pulls the top out now, holds it gently in his hands.  it’s still soft & it still smells like him, he can actually smell his husband in the green fabric draped over his palms.  he inhales it deeply, like a drowning man gasping for air & it worked, a little, he could feel himself coming alive again.  but it wasn’t enough, it was never enough, he needed more.  quickly he slipped off his t-shirt & stuck his head through the opening of the crop top, his arms making their way through the short sleeves.  he must look ridiculous, the shirt fluttered at least an inch above his navel, but he didn’t care, not now, not today.  today he sits on his bed, next to a box of the most precious things he’s ever owned, clad in a bright green crop top, & feels the closest to home that he has in over a year.


End file.
